


Claws and Katanas

by LMX



Series: Comment Fic [3]
Category: Leverage, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Injury, M/M, Weapons, fight bingo, mutant!eliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMX/pseuds/LMX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Testing Eliot's limits has never been so much fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claws and Katanas

**Author's Note:**

> Commentfic for Hawk Dancing; http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/258082.html?thread=50919202#t61641250  
> Fight Bingo: Weapons (http://lmx-v3point3.livejournal.com/84213.html)

They decided, eventually, that Eliot was one of those mutants whose mutation was almost entirely internal. He was faster, stronger and more resilient than someone of his size and stature might be expected to be, he healed up fast (if not as fast as Logan did) and occasionally when pain or emotion got too much for him, something entirely animal stepped in and took over.

They used the length of his canines to determine how close he was to losing it, and slowly trained up his resistance to that loss of control.

Which mostly meant Logan beating the crap out of him, repeatedly.

Today, that meant Eliot holding an adamantium katana against Logan's claws. He was always doomed to lose this fight, the challenge was to hold off on losing control for as long as he could. And not bleed to death, if possible.

The sword was beautifully weighted, and for such a heavy metal, remarkably light. The handle was a good fit for him, and he'd settled into a comfortable open stance with a feeling of coming home. It had been a long time since he trained with a weapon like this.

The sound of Logan's blades extending came with a shiver of excitement, and Eliot breathed deeply, eyes closed, waiting for a call to begin.

The first flurry of movement was all about learning the other's movements - how the claws moved, or didn't move, and how the blade could be turned to provide maximum power and force. Eliot had the advantage in height and manoeuvrability, Logan's claws couldn't spin or turn like the sword could in Eliot's hands, but Logan had more force behind every blow, plus the ability to heal every injury before he'd ever noticed it.

The first blood went to Eliot, sliding along Logan's claws and slicing at the back of his hand. Second blood went to Logan, one hand distracting while the other swiped at Eliot's thigh. The pain was sharp, but the wound was shallow.

They both span away, grinning maniacally. Logan was the first to dive back in, and Eliot took advantage of his haste to twist in high with the sword and catch his shoulder to the bone before he could draw back. He was rewarded with a series of fast strikes he had to twist sharply to get away from, a graze across his middle back the nearest Logan got to contact.

There was a pause, Logan glancing down at his shoulder while it knitted closed, blood mixing with the slightest sheen of sweat on his chest and back as they started pushing each other. He grinned at Eliot and got a sharp-toothed grin back. Nothing to worry about, not yet. No one else would even notice the change in his teeth at this point, but Eliot was feeling the adrenaline.

He fell back into a long stance, waiting for Eliot to do the same and dove back in with low strikes, the sword having to do twice the work to deflect both hands and Logan could see the impacts jarring on each strike, the blade not giving quite as much as the traditional steel. He caught the blade between both sets of claws and flicked upwards, let the momentum pull Eliot's body high and diving in for his exposed rib cage.

He pulled back the blades at the last minute, leaving his fists planted in Eliot's midsection and six grazes on his ribs. Eliot had already flipped the blade in his hands and didn't hesitate in pushing it down though Logan's body.

Dead heat, two killing blows. Logan pulled back and Eliot let him take the sword with him rather than worsen the injury. Logan pulled the sword out and sat down to cough on his own blood for a few minutes.

Eliot slumped down next to him, poking at the shallow wounds. He'd work up the energy to go and wrap them up in a moment, for now they weren't vital and he wanted to be sure Logan would heal up properly. He always did, but it felt wrong to walk away with him incapacitated.

"So that was pretty good," he mused.

"Didn't even..." Logan stopped to wheeze for a minute and spat a clot of blood out on the floor, "Didn't even need the trauma kit this time," he agreed.

"Heal up, old man." Eliot punched his shoulder, moving for the first aid kit laid out on the side. "There's always next time."


End file.
